


he's my ride home

by briwookie



Series: "foiled" [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, M/M, New Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:19:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8997967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briwookie/pseuds/briwookie
Summary: Kyle grimaced as he stared as his fat-fuck of a friend, who was sitting against the wall with a drunken look on his face as if he was about to fall asleep. Kenny nudged him, not much better.“Why don’t you take him home?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired mostly by "She's My Ride Home," by Blue October. Basically, BO is my favorite band when it comes to Kyle/Cartman scenarios and I always get inspiration from their music when it comes to fanfiction. Plus, felt like writing a more platonic!Kyman work, with a theme for the holidays!
> 
> I think I am going to create a series of one-shots based on this album so look for more about in the future!
> 
> I hope everyone has a great rest of their holidays, and let's hope 2017 is just as great!

Typically, when it came to New Year's, Kyle would be the designated driver.

That was just the kind of person he was. He honestly hated drinking while his friends were doing it, and he felt as though it was his responsibility that none of them got murdered driving alone on Colorado streets in the dead of night. He would occasionally take a beer, but nothing else. Alcohol didn’t soothe him as much as other remedies, and looking at Stan interact with all of the girls in their social circle on his fifth shot of whiskey was definitely proving that. Kyle found his happiness with knowing he would remember the morning of the new year. However, he knew that his best friend wasn’t the only one getting wasted.

Cartman had been drinking all night and even though Kyle had a good estimate of how much, he wasn’t going to risk the brunette getting more wasted. The cup in his hand had been shaking as the boy leaned against the wall, and Kyle wasn’t sure if that was stable enough in case Cartman stayed there for too long. If he moved even one inch in the wrong direction, he’d trip and fall and probably break something. _Actually_ , the redhead thought, _it would be pretty funny_ , or at least until he threw up afterwards.

“He is so fucking done.” Kyle heard as a blonde glimpse of mischief popped up behind him. Kenny, the poor soul who had decided to host this year’s party, had been in and out of everything going on for the past few hours, but he didn’t appear to look too out of it, surprisingly. Or, perhaps, he just hid it too well.

“If he keeps drinking like that he’s going to get poisoning, or something.” Kyle remarked.

“Eric Cartman, otherwise known as the 'King of Lightweights.” Kenny laughed. The devil himself scrunched up as he heard his friends talking about him, and he flipped them off. Well, he attempted to, his hand quivering unsteadily.

“Oh, _fuck you,_ poor boy.”

“Right, tell that to one of the only sober people here, fatass.” Kenny said, watching as Cartman turned his head.

Kyle sighed, not really wanting to be at this party any longer than he had to. How many years had passed when he just felt tugged along to these kinds of things, never wanting to indulge on drunken pursuits and young girls with beer bottles stuck between their breasts? He wanted to check his phone just to come up with some excuse to get out of here, sorry for leaving Stan behind but not giving too much of a shit. Cartman groaned as he started sliding down the floor, cheeks flushed from the hot air, and from the liquor taking its course.

Kyle grimaced as he stared as his fat-fuck of a friend, sitting against the wall with a drunken look on his face as if he was about to fall asleep. Kenny nudged him, not much better.

“Why don’t you take him home?”

The question was too inviting and if Kyle had anything else to say about it, he would downright refuse, even remembering December nights before where he would drag the fatass home after every other party. Still, if it meant he could be in his cozy bed, he had no second thoughts. Nope. The only countdown he could think of was how long it would take to get the hell out of here.

Kyle took Kenny up on his offer by dragging Cartman out onto the frozen sidewalk and trying to push him into his truck. Easier said than done, as Cartman weighed almost double as him, and he was at least one foot taller. Puberty had been too nice for one of them, but Kyle was never a stick, and he managed to get Cartman into the passenger seat without too much injury. The only problem was the whining about how non-drunk Cartman was, and how he could still hold another drink.

“You really ruin…all of the parties, Jew.” Cartman kept hiccupping and Kyle sighed as he fastened himself up.

“You can barely even talk straight. Jesus, can you at least find the seatbelt?”

“I’m, _hic_ , working on it! Damn…”

Cartman found the seatbelt and managed to get himself fastened after playing with it for a good minute. Kyle shook his head and he started his truck, pulling out of the driveway,

Riding back to Cartman’s house from Kenny’s wasn’t too big of a stretch. They lived only five minutes away from one another and with that consideration, Kyle was thankful because Cartman, drunk, was the most talkable person he had ever known.

“That party wasn’t even that great.” Cartman slurred as he found a fascination with the radio in Kyle’s truck. “Alcohol sucked…girls sucked.”

“Then why did you drink so much?” Kyle found himself asking. He reminded himself repetitively to not ask Cartman questions if the other boy was going to keep conversation, but it was slightly better than getting yelled at the entire ride.

“Because I wanted to feel somethin’.” Cartman said. Kyle raised an eyebrow but kept driving.

“You could have had a good time without wasting yourself, Cartman.”

“Not really.” Cartman attempted to turn the radio on, but Kyle swatted his hand away. “The only thing we can…do at these parties is just drink until we can’t feel or think of anything.”

“That’s _very_ plausible.” Kyle sarcastically muttered. He slowed down as a familiar driveway appeared before the both of them, and as Kyle drove up near the garage, he almost laughed as Cartman struggled with his seatbelt, again.

“ _Well_ , fatass, make sure you don’t fall asleep too hard!” Kyle said, watching as Cartman opened the door and made his way out.

“Shut up, like that, _hic_ , ever happens."

“Good night.” Kyle said, watching a wobbling Cartman as he made his way to the front door. The redhead snickered and shook his head. Even though he had taken Cartman back home hundreds of times in this condition, there was never a moment where he looked so done. Normally he would just slur and that would be it. However, watching his friend go to the door and stand in front of it like a zombie just proved he wasn’t capable of staying alone. Kyle noticed Cartman wasn’t going inside for at least three minutes, so he honked lightly.

“What are fucking doing, Cartman, it’s freezing outside!”

“I…I think the door is locked.” Cartman said, and Kyle dropped his head against the back of his car-seat.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Kyle said as he hopped out of his truck and walked towards the front of the house. He pushed Cartman to the side and tried the doorknob, groaning.

“Does your mom normally lock the door?”

“Don’t worry, I can just…climb up to the window, ‘s no big deal.” Cartman shrugged, starting to walk to the side of the house before Kyle took him by the scarf he was wearing and pulled him back.

“Oh, no, _no_. You will seriously drop down and break your balls.”

“Well then, what the hell are you expecting me to do, Jew?” Cartman snapped. Kyle ran a gloved hand down his face, knowing Liane was working and would probably be too carried along with…whatever she was doing to come back to let her son in the house.

“I’ll just let you crash at my place for the night. My parents aren’t home and Ike’s spending the night at one of his friend’s houses.”

“Why would I want to sleep underneath the house of greedy Jews?” Cartman hiccupped again and Kyle pointed a finger at him.

“Gee, I don’t know, but unless you’d rather be stranded out in the middle of the road with nowhere to go, drunk and barely able to stand up, I would suggest you just come with me, otherwise I will happily let you walk to wherever the hell might be better!” Kyle said. Cartman blinked slowly, licking his lips and glancing back at Kyle’s truck. He grunted as he starting making his way back.

“Whatever, just to get out of his fucking cold.”

The two of them started driving back and it was snowing more. Kyle loved the snow. He found it incredibly pleasing and ever since he and Ike were younger, they would love snowball fights and making snow angels for the hours of the morning. It was a tradition that they would try to wake up to every morning in December. He glanced to the side, watching as Cartman was shivering. He tried turning the heat up, but it didn’t seem to do much good as Cartman was still shaking like a wet dog. Maybe the alcohol did more than just rile up the mind. They made their way towards Kyle’s house, and right as they were getting to the street Kyle lived on, the boy gasped and Cartman leaned forward and threw up on the carpet.

“Are you fucking serious?” Kyle yelled, grabbing his nose as he pulled over on the side of the street and reached for the napkins in the cubby before the cupholder.

“Sorry.” Cartman muttered, and Kyle would have had to say that was when he knew that Eric Cartman was totally and undeniably wasted, when he apologized.

“Just…don’t worry about. Take some of these and help me clean it up.”

After a few minutes of wanting to die inside, Kyle Broflovski finally got enough of the vomit out of his truck to where they could finish their ride, coming up to his driveway. He turned his truck off and went over to the other side, helping Cartman through the front door.

“I’ll get you something to drink, just stay on the couch for a couple of minutes.” Kyle instructed, helping the brunette sit down on the sofa.

He made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a cup, filling it with ice and water. He could smell the stench on his clothes and gloves from Cartman’s nasty throw-up, but he didn’t really care as much since he could swap those out for warm pajamas in the span of a few minutes. He grabbed some medicine from the cabinets as well as walked back into the living room.

However, Kyle sighed as he witnessed Cartman curled up on the sofa, starting to sleep.

Kyle knew he could have just walked upstairs and slept as well, but it was almost as cold downstairs as it was outside, and he gritted his teeth. He hated how he was too nice to other people.

“Cartman, c’mon, you gotta get up.”

He put his hand on Cartman’s shoulder and pressed it lightly. “It’s too cold down here, just go upstairs and get into my bed.”

Eventually, Cartman grunted and sat up, taking the cup that Kyle offered him and drank it like was the best drink he ever had. He must have been really dehydrated, since he finished it as soon as he started, taking the medicine with his last gulp.

“Let’s get you upstairs.”

“N-no, wait, Kyle.” Cartman said, and Kyle glanced up with a worried looked.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just…” Cartman blinked slowly. “I need to use the restroom.”

“Uh, yeah, okay. Here, c’mon.” Kyle took Cartman’s arm and slowly led him upstairs, bringing him to the bathroom. “Go ahead and take your time, I will try to find something that will fit you.”

Kyle searched through his drawers and found a pair of shorts that were way too big for him and a large t-shirt, praying that it would work. He was lucky, as after Cartman opened the door and took the clothes that he didn’t argue about how they fitted. Kyle found his own clothes and changed, before knocking on the bathroom door.

“Are you doing okay?”

Cartman didn’t respond for a few minutes before grunting in a positive manner. Kyle nodded and waited a while longer. Eventually, Cartman stepped out of the bathroom, the large Terrance and Phillip shirt proving to be quite the excellent choice.

“I threw up a little.” Cartman whispered, and Kyle shook his head knowingly.

“It’s fine, I can clean it later. Go ahead and get into bed, I’ll get you more to drink.”

Kyle went downstairs and refilled the cup he gave to Cartman earlier while also getting himself some water. Walking back into his bedroom, he saw Cartman curled up underneath the covers, his hair fluffed. He wanted to smile to himself at the sight, almost marveling at how cute the other boy looked, but he shook his head before the thought passed his mind.

“Figured you’d want to get that taste out of your mouth.” Kyle said as he made his way into the bed. “Also, move over, you’re hogging.”

“Hm.” Cartman sat up lightly and drink some of the water, before placing it on the dresser besides him. Kyle stared down at the water in his cup for a few seconds, not really sure of what to say. He knew he was tired, exhausted, and sleep would feel so good right about now, but the thought of waking up to see Cartman die of some alcohol-related choking, or whatever, made him nauseous.

“Hey, uh…thanks.” Cartman said, and Kyle raised an eyebrow. He never understood why Cartman decided to be more emotional as a drunk but he wasn’t going to argue against it.

“For what?”

“For uh, letting me stay at your place.” Cartman was starting to say words faster to make it out as though Kyle couldn’t understand him. Kyle smiled.

“You’re welcome. Won’t be the first time you’ve caused me too many problems intoxicated, I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

“You’re right.” Cartman said. Kyle leaned back and started drinking his water, the room silent for a few minutes. Eventually, Cartman rustled himself and faced Kyle. He looked like he would blackout any second, his eyelids struggling to stay up.

“Hey, Kyle?”

“Hm?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

 _Well, already did a lot for him tonight._ Kyle thought to himself. “What is it?”  


“Can we watch the ball drop?”

Kyle glanced towards the clock in his room, seeing that it was only three minutes until midnight. He took his remote and turned the television on, flipping it to the news station. The crowd was cheering heavily as the minutes continued going down, and once the last thirty seconds came around, Kyle and Cartman started saying the numbers out loud. Kyle was impressed that, even in his drunken phase, Cartman would say every number clearly, like he was actually sobering up.

“ _One_!” The people in New York cheered, kissing and hugging one another as confetti filled the screen.

“Happy New Year, Jew.” Cartman whispered, turning to where his back faced Kyle. The boy grinned and brought the blankets over the both of them before turning out his lamp.

“Happy New Year, Cartman.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and feedback is appreciated! Have a great rest of the year!


End file.
